Miami Anti-Social

The only really lucrative profession in Miami, capable of surviving the real estate bust.

Oh GAWD! I swore to myself, no -- I lit candles to San Lazaro -- that I would not blog about this stupid reality show. But you know what? I have to thank Bravo's Miami Social for generating some of the best laughs in the local online community lately. And unlike this blog, which has always claimed to be semi-fictional, Bravo has now done the most awesome thing evar by making Miamians look like the biggest fucking morons and calling it "real" instead of "hyperbole" and "satire," which is really what it should be.

Quiz: can you tell what's real and what's not in the blog post?

Mind you, I haven't watched the complete show, because I couldn't bear it, but the reviews have been supremely entertaining. I have, however, watched a few clips, which has made me wonder if I might not be pregnant, given the sudden desire to vomit at a moment's notice.

No, I know for sure I'm not pregnant. I got gang-banged by a bunch of vasectomy / penile enlargement patients last week while waiting in line at Publix, because South Beach is so sexy and that's how we roll here.

Well, I'll get around to watching the show at length when I'm too tired to wank-off to the Sham Wow guy late at night. But in the meantime, all this got me thinking ...

... here's the thing, in light of this representation of Miami as a shallow place place full of vapid people (holy shit, the entire Bravo network should be called VAPID, with the exception of Kathy Griffin), I wonder if Miami Social stole some ideas from my cartoons.

So, I'd thought I'd take an opportunity to republish them again, and let people know just exactly how stupid, sexually-obsessed and obnoxious we real Miamians truly are.

Miami is the land of ectomorphs with no brains and plenty of promiscuous pussy, dick and assholes who live in high-rise buildings. Oh, but I'm sorry, you snort so much cocaine, your nose is bigger than your [insert orifice of choice]. That's right. Oh and of course, don't forget to bleach your privates, too, because what could be more embarrassing than having an asshole that doesn't match your tan? Sporting a spotty bunghole is no way to go about in life, dearie.


It's too bad Miami Social's website has picture of Miami Sound Machine and Crocket & Tubs, cause you know, these entertainment classics -- the one a band from a million years ago and the other a fictional TV show -- are just so accurate a reflection of our fair city today in 2009. (PS, Sorry Gloria, I love you ... but Sound Machine was so 80s! Why didn't they have a picture of you NOW?)


Anyway, I'm sorry SoBe Fit, but most people here survive on a diet of vodka, french fries and surely some blow. This is the real South Beach Diet and don't let Dr. Agatston tell you otherwise.


Oh, and don't forget, it's a vapid-celebrity-star eat vapid-celebrity-star world out there, and this is before you even puke the $15 plain croissant you had at News Café.

You know, I wanted to pitch a show to Bravo about the Horny Housewives of Hialeah (TM), but I think I need to find another network that actually does reality TV. Actually ... you know what? Wanna see truly stupid and ridiculous? Go to any South Beach club or hotel bar and film the women's bathroom. There, you'll see a sad Haitian woman not getting tipped from the women freebasing on hairspray, stealing lollipops and talking about anal sex like it was getting a massage from a stone crab. And people wonder why I hate clubs!

Miami Herald review - OMG funniest read evar!
Debate at Miami Beach 411 - which show is more fake? Miami Social or Miami CSI? And do salt-rimmed margaritas make your feet get puffy?
South Florida Daily Blog
Miami New Times

And for a good dose of reality, please visit my photo group: THE REAL MIAMI BEACH. Just walk down Washington Avenue any day. How's that for a bravo?

Around Town: Icon at Brickell/Viceroy

Oy vay. Another big penis-like building sticking up from the mouth of the river! Hey, it's all good, but doesn't it look like it's just about to topple over? Miami Circle is that little sliver of green just by the water. Photo shot from Havana Club, 55th floor of the Wachovia Tower.

On July 4, hoity-toity, high-falutin' hotel property located at the Icon Brickell, Viceroy, opened its doors to the local riff-raff. The very exclusive hotel and residence complex let locals get a taste of its pool area by an rsvp list enhanced with tight security. Many guests enjoyed $12 premium cocktails and $6 hot dogs by the infinity pool (not bad, considering South Beach prices) and watched some of downtown Miami's fireworks from the sloped terrace on the 15th floor.

The Icon is a steel and glass monster trio of towers with a designer label of Yoo and Phillipe Starck, built by the Related Group at the mouth of Miami River, just behind the controversial Miami Circle, a 2,000 year-old National Historic Landmark currently managed by the Historical Museum of South Florida.

The entrance to the building, a portico with columns inspired by the statues at Easter Island, is the weirdest thing you'll see in a rash of gimmicky architectural details. I'm sorry, folks, but the columns look like giant shit turds and don't flow with the symmetrical and angular lines of the buildings. Also, the statues aren't exactly part of art in a public park, but seem like someone's personal fetish imposed upon the public view. (By the way, Brickell Park is situated right to the south of Icon and is not integrated into the design.)

Every time I drive by there, I think and laugh: this luxury property is held up by some very serious looking Mr. Hankey's from South Park!

I understand the humor in architecture. But the problem with this kind of funny stuff is that people actually live here and have to look at it everyday. Humor should be in the details and not in-your-face. What's funny today may not be funny tomorrow, and architecture is something you can touch and see and is going to influence your life, not a joke you can simply forget.

Oh, but let me stretch my imagination a little. The statues also look like uncircumcised penises. Seriously. I DARE YOU to drive by this building and not think it's a tribute to something attached to or coming out of the the male groin. I know columns are phallic, but still? This isn't like Gaudi's wonderfully undulating designs in Barcelona. This just doesn't look right. Something is off. Or maybe someone got off. I don't know.

That's why I feel that seeing these big turds (or penises) at one of the most historically important, high-traffic spots in Miami is kind of visually offensive to the average citizen.

And why Easter Island? Hello? Brickell is the freakin' birthplace of Miami. The river is Miami. Why not pay homage to the Tequesta Indians, when one builds a towering residential and hotel complex just inches from Miami's most famous archeological site? You'd think, that in addition to having ancient history right in your face, what with the obelisk statue by the Brickell Bridge, and the statue facing the bay on Brickell Key -- both tributes to native American history here -- that someone might've thought about connecting the building architecturally to local history. But no. Instead, we get a reference to an island in the Pacific.

Ditto with the paravans. The 15th floor of the property boasts a gorgeous courtyard and terrace, with plenty of space to lounge and laze by the infinity pool, which looms vertiginously over the slim waterway separating Icon from the high-rise condos of Brickell Key.

These paravans with black-and-white portraits of what seem to be regular people (maybe they worked in making this building?) are utterly goofy. How about some historical pictures of the Miami River? That would be an amazing, museum-quality pictorial. You know, just maybe remind people that they're in Miami and not in some place disconnected to the grounds that it stands on? Is this really an island unto itself?

Anyway, the paravans give some privacy -- relative privacy. The glass towers literally have no exterior walls made of anything but transparent material. So if you peek around the paravan, you'll see floor after floor of the toilets in each unit and it makes you wonder who'd want to take a crap with the rest of Miami watching. For this I'm going to pay a million bucks? I don't think so. And besides, woe betide me when a category five hurricane moseys down the mouth of the river.

The east end of the giant courtyard features a terrace defined by three, steep steps tiled in non-slippery material resembling slate. The view from here is incredible. If you suffer from vertigo, this cascading balcony of sorts may not be for you, but I loved it. On July 4, the modest crowd watched limited fireworks from here (some of the view was obstructed by other towering condos on Brickell Key and the northeast side of the river's mouth).

I didn't get a chance to see the rooms, but judging from the website, I'm sure they're lovely. Don't get me wrong -- I don't want to poo-poo this property. If I were a tourist, the place would be interesting, to say the least. And as a local, I'd happily hang out here for any festivity. The pool area is pretty and very relaxing, what with potted plants and all, and another funny touch -- a large faux fireplace -- which is hilarious of course, considering the weather here.

I just wish that our architecture had some kind of organic relevance to the history and geography of its surroundings. Standing 15 stories above the Miami Circle, the only thing I could think was WTF?

And apparently, I'm not the only person who feels this way. Adam Mizrahi of Urban City Arch has written an excellent analysis of how the Icon property "disregards" its surroundings and is far from being pedestrian-friendly: "This is much unlike Europe — where important historical sites are integrated into the landscape. Buildings give way or at least pay homage to the historical and social context of a site." Yes! Let's not forget Brickell Park to the south side of Icon and the fact that the Brickell family was instrumental in founding this area.

Statue photo above courtesy of Urban City Arch on Flickr. Check out his stream for more photos.

Sexcrunch: Breaking News! Super Sperm Invading Planet!

All the news that's fit for bed, served between the sheets. Don't ever say you aren't getting any!

Image courtesy of from Stacy Lynn Baum on Flickr.

Sperm has been active in the news lately, which, of course, has spawned a wave of critical thinking worthy of a new blog post here at Sex and the Beach. To start with, Discovery News has just published a story on a study, Sperm Travels Faster Toward Attractive Females:

The study, conducted on red junglefowl, a director ancestor of chickens, adds to the growing body of evidence that males throughout many promiscuous species in the animal kingdom, including humans, can mate with many females, but chances of fertilization are greater when the female is deemed to be attractive. . . .

The mechanism behind this remains a mystery for now, but the scientists have an intriguing theory.

"Males may alter the velocity of sperm they allocate to copulations by strategically firing their left and right ejaculatory ducts, which can operate independently," they explained.

Stimulation from sexy, attractive females, therefore, leads to the double firing.

Now, if you can suspend disbelief for a moment (after all, this "speed factor" was observed in fowl, not humans!), let's pretend that the same were true for humans. This begs many questions!

Discuss:

Does Michael Phelps' sperm swim faster?

Guys like to go fast but hate asking for directions. Is the same true of sperm? What is the point of going fast if you don't know where you're going?

If a dude has a really long schlong, does it matter how fast his sperm travels? Would a dude with Lamborghini-speed sperm and a short dick get better results?

If you are a sperm and are going really fast, do you get a concussion if you hit the domed end of a condom?

If you're a German guy screwing someone whom you think is beautiful, does your sperm think it's on the autobahn? Does it automatically slow down to 20 mph if Helga is dowdy?

What if a dude is wearing beer goggles at 3 am. Does he "fake" his sperm into going faster? What is the mind-body neurological connection between "deemed attractiveness" and sperm velocity?

Does sperm velocity differ if a guy is jerking off to his favorite porn star? Is an actual vagina required for fast firing?

Also, does sperm travel just as fast in gay encounters where nary a sperm shall meet an egg?

And OMG, what if a dude is diphallic? Does he pick and choose his squirter?

What is the speed limit, if any, inside a woman's vagina? Do we measure sperm speed as in 0 to 60 in 1 millimeter?

What about intrauterine speeding tickets? Does this apply if you are a husband in Pinecrest cheating on your wife with the maid?

How come NASCAR hasn't gotten into this?

PUBLIC SWIMMING POOLS: THE NEW CURE TO INFERTILITY

And just when we thought it was really hard to get pregnant ...

Local reporter and blogger James Burnett has put in his own two cents on an unbelievable tale of the little sperm that could! In his recent blog post, he mentions a case of seminal litigiousness that makes me wonder why Javier Bardem's sperm hasn't magically impregnated me just by the mere fact that I think about him when I touch myself!

Magdalena Kwiatkowska and her 13-year-old daughter recently vacationed in Egypt. When they returned home, the daughter told Kwiatkowska that she was pregnant. But Kwiatkowska says her daughter didn't meet boys on the trip, so the girl must've been the victim of "stray sperm" in the hotel pool.

Holy shit, here I am 41 years old and my biological clock has about 2 seconds left. What's in the water in Egypt? Maybe I should vacation there! And please ... stray sperm, huh? Boy, all those stray sperms out there ... can we put them in a shelter and hope they get adopted?

So the mom is suing the hotel, not the father, mind you, and not even the sperm itself! I think she should sue the offending sperm, because it's not some jackass's fault if he jerked off in the pool, and that his microscopic, DNA bearing, Speedy Gonzalez evolutionary advanced cum made it past bathing suit reinforced crotch-fabric, squeezed through the cervix and implanted itself into the egg of a virgin woman.

Seriously.

I guess the "his penis accidentally slipped into my vagina" defense isn't going to fly well by mama. And to think, the accidental penis-slip happens ALL THE TIME in South Beach, even outside the water. Tsk, tsk. Miracle baby, indeed. I wonder if its face will appear on a grilled cheese sandwich.

Can't wait to see what the judge says about this one.

Sperm sign image courtesy of Mayu ;P on Flickr.